


Two Seconds, That's All It Takes

by battybatzgirl



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Could be taken as slashy or not, Gen, Guillermo Whump, Guillermo is an Anxious Bean, Light Angst, M/M, Nandor is Himbo but I love Him Anyway, Pre-Slash, but it's mostly off screen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24329263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/battybatzgirl/pseuds/battybatzgirl
Summary: Guillermo gets mugged and is left stranded in an alley with a bad concussion. Nandor finds him.
Relationships: Guillermo & Nandor the Relentless (What We Do in the Shadows TV), Guillermo/Nandor the Relentless (What We Do in the Shadows TV)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 164





	Two Seconds, That's All It Takes

**Author's Note:**

> ~~~~~~~~~~I have literally zero excuses for this except the fact that I am all about that STRESS AND ANGST~~~~~~

Working for a home full of vampires had taken the fear of “normal people” out of Guillermo a long time ago. Murders, rapists, and serial killers all paled in comparison to literal fanged creatures of the night. Perhaps that was why he was so unprepared for getting mugged on his way back from the convenience store.

It was dusk, which meant he was walking a little faster, wanting to be home for when Nandor woke up. His Master had sent him out for more sharpies because all the ones in the house had gone dry from use. He didn’t see the trio of bulky men appear in his peripheral vision until it was too late.

They backed him into an alley, slammed his head into the brick wall, and left him bleeding, gasping in a heap on the ground. They took his bag, his wallet, and his shoes. What the fuck, what was it with did muggers taking shoes? It’s not like they didn’t already have a pair of their own.

Guillermo tried to get up, but nausea rolled through him when he tried to lift his head. He could taste blood in the back of his throat. Shit, Nandor wouldn’t be happy with this.

It might have been minutes, hours, or days later, but eventually, he heard a familiar poof of physical transformation.

“Guillermo, _there_ you are.” His master’s voice sounded far away. Groggy, almost like it was underwater. “What are you doing down there? You’re supposed to be _working_ , not lazing around like a—”

He cut himself off. Guillermo forced his eyes to open, not quite remembering when he had closed them. He blinked once. Twice. Three times before the fuzzy picture of his master’s face swam into focus. The flickering streetlights caught in the midnight of Nandor’s hair, tiny constellations reflected within the darkness.

As if finally noticing his familiar’s pain, Nandor tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I think,” Guillermo tried, his tongue feeling swollen inside his mouth. Fuck, this wasn’t good. Maybe he needed to go to the hospital? He shifted to try to stand up but the earth beneath him rolled like a ship at sea. Bile burned in his throat and he slammed his eyes shut, forcing whatever was coming up back down. “I have a concussion.”

He heard the rustling of fabric and felt a sudden nearness. When he blinked his eyes open again, he almost startled back. Nandor was kneeling in front of him now, squinting with his head still tilted. It took Guillermo a second to register that Nandor wasn’t looking at him, but at his hairline.

“Someone…hurt you.”

“’M fine.” Even as he said it, he tried to move again—he hadn’t shown weakness around Nandor, around any of the vampires—in years. At first he’d been terrified of them eating him, but he quickly learned they were all just talk. Who else was going to clean their fancy living room, anyway? Showing weakness was a good way to get him relentlessly teased, and Guillermo liked to think that after ten years as a familiar, he still had a little dignity left.

And yet, here he was, bleeding out in a fucking alley with a concussion.

The thought made his hindbrain prickle. He was wounded and bleeding in front of a predator. Anyone else would have been helpless, afraid.

Except he was used to this by now. Injuries came with the job. And besides, he had his cross pendant on. He’d never taken it off, not since it had saved his life in the trial. He could feel the silver weighing down on his chest, just under his sweater. He could use it.

But Nandor couldn’t hurt him. _Wouldn’t_ hurt him. Nandor was his master, he needed Guillermo around to—well, to take care of him, for lack of better phrasing. The man barely knew how to operate a steam iron. And he’d shown at least some regard for his mortal life recently, saving him from Topher. Nandor had no idea about Guillermo’s double-agent life as a vampire slayer. There was no reason to be worried.

Right?

His master, apparently unaware of Guillermo’s train of thought, reached two fingers forward and gently brushed up against Guillermo’s hairline. Guillermo winced at the pain, and again a second time when Nandor’s long fingers came back bloody.

Dimly, Guillermo felt his heart clash harder against his ribs. He could reach for his pendant, but Nandor was so close. Would his fingers be able to get the talisman out from under his shirt in time? His limbs felt heavy and sluggish. Not ideal for vampire fighting.

Nandor stared down at the blood on his fingers, expression unreadable. For a brief second, Guillermo suddenly had the wild fear that Nandor was going to pop his fingers in his mouth to taste him. Nandor had drank from him a few times, sure, but it had never been when Guillermo had been physically incapable of pushing him away. Not that he could ever push Nandor away if the vampire didn’t want it. Nandor was a bumbling sweetheart at times, yes, but he was also ancient. Strong.

Unnatural.

The thought made him tense, mentally prepping himself to see his master’s eyes go black. Hear the hiss of an oncoming attack, feel the sharp prick of fangs in his flesh. He felt a sweat break out on his upper lip, his heart racing as Van Helsing instinct took over. If Nandor moved even a centimeter forward, he’d go for his pendant, then when he was distracted Guillermo could grab a stake from his jacket pocket and—

Instead, Nandor glanced up at him and frowned.

“Are you afraid of me, Guillermo?”

The question was so ludicrous it nearly made him laugh. Nandor had once been a warrior, yes, but he more frequently fussed over the dirty dishes in the kitchen than decapitated someone. He hadn’t been truly afraid of the vampire in at least eight years.

“No. Not at all.”

The frown on Nandor’s face deepened. “You’re lying.”

Guillermo’s heart jumped, and Nandor pointed a finger at his chest. “Ahh, see? I can hear your heart go _bum-ba-bum-ba-bum_ , really fast, like that.”

“O-oh.” For some reason, he’d never thought of Nandor being able to hear his heartbeat before. Enhanced senses, though. It made sense. But Nandor was mistaking his adrenaline for fear. “Uh, I’m not—er, I mean—”

“You shouldn’t be wandering around bleeding in dark alleys! Who knows who’d try to take a bite out of a little fellow like you?” Nandor _tsk_ ed and wiped the blood from his fingers onto his cape— _I’ll have to clean that later_ , Guillermo thought fuzzily—and stands up abruptly. Seconds later, Guillermo found himself being roughly hauled to his feet, stumbling to find purchase underneath himself.

“It wouldn’t even be hard for me to do it,” Nandor said breezily, slinging an arm around Guillermo’s waist, keeping him upright. “Killing you. But I’d have to find a new familiar who brushes out my hair in the right way and I just don’t have the energy for that.”

And maybe it’s because his head is still spinning, or the adrenaline still hasn’t worn off, but Guillermo finds himself stupidly replying, “I could kill you, too.”

For an instant, he could have sworn he felt Nandor go stiff at his side. But a second later, the vampire’s ribs were shaking with laughter.

“You couldn’t kill _me_!” Nandor grinned down at him. His tone sounded like he was scolding a foolish toddler. “Don’t be so silly, Guillermo. I am a mighty vampire! You’re a stupid, breakable human. I could twist your neck in five seconds and you’d be facing backward like an owl, dead as a doornail.”

 _Two seconds_ , Guillermo thought, dizzily leaning into the sturdy weight of his master. _I’d only need two seconds to wedge a stake in your heart. I’ve done it before._

But in the grand scheme of things, Nandor certainly didn’t need to know that.

“Come on, then.” Nandor tightened his grip, and Guillermo couldn’t tell if he suddenly felt weightless because his knees gave out or because Nandor was levitating. “Let’s go home. I can’t have you stinking up this alleyway, drawing ruffians to our neighborhood.”

He must have blacked out, because the next thing he remembered was waking up in his bed. Groggily, he rubbed at his face and found his glasses were missing. He reached over to grab them from his nightstand, his fingers brushing against a glass of water rested there that wasn’t before. A bolt of panic shot through him at the idea of Nandor taking off his jacket and discovering the small stake hidden in the pocket, but his jacket remained on his body.

Guillermo put on his glasses and rubbed his eyes. It was pure fucking luck Nandor hadn’t thought to take off his jacket and find the stake. He couldn’t possibly get that lucky twice. His head still throbbed like a bitch, and his stomach sunk when he realized something else.

If he was truly going to keep hiding his secret from the vampires in this house, he had to learn how to control his _own fucking heartbeat_. If something happened, if anything changed between them, the noise would give him away.

 _Shit_.


End file.
